“Fear,” she finished for him, the lingering terror in the room crawling over her skin like an insidious disease.
They fell silent as they considered the slaughter. With an effort, Nefri coldly stripped away the horror of what she was seeing to concentrate on basic facts.
There were five—no six—humans spread across the wooden floor. They were all young, perhaps in their early twenties, and what was left of their clothing suggested they hadn’t been homeless. Local college students?
They’d been held in the room for at least a week and occasionally fed and watered if the amount of waste mixed in with the mess was any indication. They’d been physically fit. There was no other way they could have endured such punishment for such a length of time.
And all were mutilated beyond the point of recognition.
To have been able to keep so many suffering people hidden behind the illusion for such a length of time took more than the usual enchantment.
She took a step further into the room, allowing her senses to flow through the thick air. She should be able to pick up something. A scent. A lingering trace of power. A stray piece of DNA left behind.
But there was nothing.
Which spoke for itself.
“This isn’t Gaius’s doing,” Santiago at last broke into the heavy silence. “At least not on his own.”
“No,” she softly agreed.
Strong, slender fingers closed around Nefri’s upper arm and Santiago pulled her back into the hallway, turning her to meet his piercing gaze. “Nefri, this is no longer a game.”
“I never said it was.”
“Then tell me what the hell is going on.”
She tilted her chin. “You know I can’t discuss this.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” he hissed.
“No.”
His raw power swirled through the air, reminding her that he wasn’t one of her docile clansmen. Santiago was ruled by primitive passions and male impulses.
“Do you see that massacre?” he snapped, pointing toward the open door.
She met him glare for glare. “I can hardly miss it.”
“And you still want to play politics?”
Her hands clenched at the unfair accusation. The last thing she wanted was to be caught in politics. Wasn’t that the reason she’d retreated behind the Veil in the first place?
“If you want answers, then approach the Oracles and ask your questions,” she informed him in icy tones, turning on her heel to walk away.
It was that or tossing him through the nearest window.
“Nefri.” In the blink of an eye he was standing in front of her, blocking her path. “You’re not leaving until you tell me the truth.”
She lifted a warning hand, her fangs extended. “You’re a typical alpha male, Santiago, but you’re not stupid.”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I give orders, I don’t take them.”
Gaius’s new lair in Wisconsin
Unlike Louisiana, northern Wisconsin was already in the grip of late autumn. The night air was edged with frost and the countryside filled with sugar maples that were in full glory, painting the dark sky in shades of gold and crimson.
Locating a remote cabin in the middle of a thick patch of woods, Gaius made swift work of the elderly couple, draining them dry before burying them deep in the rocky ground. Then, ensuring his beloved Dara was comfortable in the upstairs loft, he spent the remainder of the night covering the windows with heavy shutters and reinforcing the doors, belatedly thankful that his essence had been destroyed weeks ago by the witch. No one would be able to follow his trail.
Still it was only when he was certain that he’d made the place as safe as possible that he climbed the narrow stairs and crossed the wood-planked floor to the bed covered by a handstitched quilt.
His feet briefly faltered as the body in the center of the bed faded to a black mist, as if it were as insubstantial as a cloud. Then, the darkness coalesced into a slender female form that was covered in a short skirt and halter top he’d found in his previous lair.
A figment of his imagination, he assured himself, ignoring the fact that it wasn’t the first time his mate had appeared less than . . . corporeal.
Continuing forward, he gazed down at the perfect oval of Dara’s honey-tinted face framed by a curtain of straight, blue-black hair. She was so beautiful, he acknowledged with a pang of longing.
Exquisite.
A daughter of the desert.
Carefully, he perched on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his black hair he kept short and slicked back from his lean face, which had once been considered handsome with a wide brow and prominent nose. Although now it was covered with dirt and blood, making him look more like a savage than the proud Roman general he’d once been.
Even his black chinos and silk shirt that had once been pristine were wrinkled and torn and so filthy they were impossible to recognize.
He needed to remember something, he thought in confusion. Something important. But what?
Almost as if sensing his growing confusion, Dara lifted her lashes to reveal eyes as dark as the night sky. “Gaius.”
He leaned forward, unconsciously careful not to touch her. “Yes, beloved?”
“I need to feed.”
He frowned at the soft words. “Again?”
“I’m still weak.”
Gaius shuddered. He was a vampire who had more than a passing acquaintance with violence. During his years with the Dark Lord he’d committed atrocities that would once have sickened him.
But Dara’s uncharacteristic lust for feedings that were as depraved as they were bloody was more than disturbing. They were dangerous.
“Yes, but—”
“Is something troubling you, habibi?”
“The humans become annoyingly agitated when their families begin to disappear.”
“So?”
“We just got settled here.”
A pleading expression touched her beautiful face. “Do you want me to suffer?”
“No, of course not,” he harshly denied. “What if I bring you a few demons? An imp or some fairies?”
“And draw the attention of the Oracles?” A strange heaviness filled the room. “Don’t be stupid.”
A warning fluttered at the edges of his mind. “The Oracles.”
She slowly sat upright, her liquid gaze holding him with a gripping intensity. “I warned you, habibi, they will send me back if they learn I have escaped my grave.”
Stark fear filled his heart at the mere thought of losing his mate. He’d mourned her for decades. He couldn’t endure such loss again.